Eye of the Oracle

by Bryan Davis

  Gabriel eased over to the window. Dr. Conner’s SUV pulled out of the driveway, sliding more than rolling, but once the tires grabbed the snowy road, he seemed to have no more trouble as he crawled toward the neighborhood’s exit.

  As soon as the SUV’s taillights disappeared in the flurry of white, a Cadillac parked at the side of the road started its engine. Leaving its headlights off, it rolled forward and stopped in front of Bonnie’s house. Two men in trench coats jumped out and jogged toward the front door, one of them favoring a leg. Even through the curtain of falling flakes, Gabriel recognized the sinister face. Devin!

  Sapphira dropped to her knees and wept. Bonnie’s words stabbed deep into her soul. This dragon girl, another freak of nature, mistreated and betrayed by her father, had torn Sapphira’s heart in two.

  Lifting her head, she stared at her portal screen. Now the slayer lurked right outside Bonnie’s door! There had to be a way to help her! There just had to be!

  She jumped up and ran to the other side of the screen. Finding her cross, she lifted it off the rocky floor and cradled it in her hands. “You haven’t ignited in a while, but now I think it’s time to try again.” She licked her lips and shouted. “Give me light!” Flames leaped from the wood. Each weathered sliver seemed to pop and sizzle as if laughing with joy.

  She strode from the museum room and rushed to the elevator shaft. Snuffing the flames for the time being, she pushed the cross under her belt, grasped the rope, and shinnied down.

  After swinging out to the mining level, she reignited her cross and followed the forbidding path that she had seen Morgan trod on so many occasions, leading condemned little girls to a fiery fate. This time, it was finally Sapphira’s turn to face the chasm, but it wasn’t Morgan who led her to the executioner, it was a flaming cross.

  Sapphira turned through the final passageway leading to the ledge overlooking the chasm. Marching right up to the precipice, she gazed down at the boiling magma river. Hot air blasted upward, instantly drying her eyes and stinging them mercilessly. Although the liquid torture was far hotter than when she trembled at its sight so long ago, not a shred of fear tingled her skin.

  She planted her feet firmly. Raising her cross high, she shouted into the upper reaches of the enormous dark chamber. “I was born Mara, a slave girl of the earth!” Her call echoed as if shouted back at her a hundred times. “And I once knew you as Elohim!”

  The echo repeated, “Elohim! Elohim!”

  “But now I call you Jehovah-Yasha!”

  “Jehovah-Yasha! Jehovah-Yasha!”

  “I finally know what you want me to do!”

  “To do! To do!”

  “You want me to die!”

  “To die! To die!”

  “And to be raised from the dead as Sapphira Adi!”

  “Sapphira Adi! Sapphira Adi!”

  She waved her cross in a circle. A spinning cylinder of fire dropped from above and met the flames rising from the cross.

  Sapphira stepped to the very edge of the overhanging rock. “Now take me where you want me to go, whether to heaven or to hell, to England or to Montana, or keep me here in this tomb forever. I will be content to serve you no matter what you decide . . . Jehovah-Yasha.”

  Sapphira pulled the burning cross down and pressed it against her chest. The cross melded into her skin, her entire body burst into flames, and she leaped into the chasm. As she fell, she looked up, bracing herself for the impact. The cylinder spun down with her and wrapped her up in a fiery coil. Within seconds, everything vanished.

  Gabriel zoomed toward the bedroom exit and flew right through Irene as she peeked in. He paused at the top of the stairs, drumming his radiant fingers on the banister.

  Dressed in a long bathrobe, Irene whispered, “Are you asleep, dear?” When no answer came, she reached in and turned off the lamp, then padded quietly down the steps. Gabriel rushed ahead and zipped straight to the window at the side of the front door. Palin, standing next to Devin, raised a crowbar and slammed it against the glass, smashing a hole the size of a bowling ball. Reaching in with his gloved hand, he turned the deadbolt, and the two burst inside.

  A ceiling light flashed on. Irene ran into the front hall and laid a hand on her chest. “Matt!” she called, angling her head toward the stairs, “get the shotgun! Hurry!”

  Devin shed his outer cloak, revealing his chain mail and the red dragon on his surcoat. The glittering candlestone dangled in front. “The good doctor just left for an important meeting on campus.” He withdrew a long, silvery sword from a scabbard. “You do remember me, don’t you? You slashed my leg and fled like a coward, and about fifteen hundred years ago, you knelt before the king with a bogus plea.”

  Resisting the candlestone’s pull, Gabriel glided toward an electrical outlet. He might have only one chance to zap Devin, so he had to avoid the candlestone and time his attack perfectly.

  “Fifteen hundred years!” Irene tightened the sash on her robe. “Do I look that old to you?”

  Devin took a step closer, wincing as he set his foot down. “Let us not play games, Mrs. Conner. Your dear husband told me about your dragon blood, so I am here to collect a healthy sample of it. Do you have a gallon or two to spare?”

  Stripping off his own cloak, Palin dashed around Irene and stood behind her. As he drew his sword, his dark mail shimmered in the light.

  Devin spread out his hands. “You may now reenact your pleading posture, and perhaps I will let you die quickly.”

  “Do your worst,” Irene said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ll never kneel to you.”

  Devin drew back his sword. Gabriel stretched out to grab him, simultaneously plugging himself into the outlet. As the current buzzed through his energy field, he latched onto Devin’s ankle. Sparks flew up the slayer’s leg and sizzled across his mail. Devin’s limbs stiffened, and his fingers locked around the sword’s hilt. Light bulbs popped in the ceiling fixture, and the room fell dim. With the current no longer streaking through him, Gabriel collapsed and released his grip.

  Palin stood transfixed, as if hypnotized by the glow of streetlights illuminating the room. Irene jerked away his sword and charged at the slayer.

  Devin toppled forward, and with a stiff jab, thrust his blade into Irene’s stomach, slashing downward as he fell. He thudded prostrate to the hardwood floor, covering the candlestone.

  Irene dropped Palin’s sword and grasped her belly. Blood oozed between her fingers. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, her eyes wide and her mouth agape.

  Gabriel could barely crawl. His energy field sizzled as he willed his way toward Irene.

  She fell to her side, her eyes still open. Palin jumped over her, retrieved his sword, and knelt beside his fallen leader. He shook Devin’s body. “My liege! Can you hear me?”

  Devin stayed flat on the floor. “I hear you. . . . But I can’t see anything . . . except a lump on the floor. Did I kill the demon witch?”

  Palin glanced at Irene. “A mortal stab, my liege. If she’s not already dead, she will be soon.”

  Gasping for breath, Devin lifted his head. “An electrical shock. That mongrel . . . Gabriel . . . must have done this.”

  “I see him,” Palin said. “Just a few glitters on the floor near your feet, and he seems paralyzed, but he’s definitely here.”

  “No use . . . worrying about him.” Devin nodded toward the stairs. “Check the house. . . . See if the witch whelped any mongrels. Conner said he had no kids, . . . but make sure.”

  “And if she has?”

  “Kill them. But save . . . some of their blood.”

  Palin turned and, stepping over Irene’s deathly still body, headed for the stairs. Gabriel followed, slithering along the thin planks like a dribbling stream of sparks.

  Pointing his sword upward, Palin climbed the stairs slowly. Devin pushed up to his hands and knees. The candlestone again dangled fro
m its chain, swaying back and forth as the slayer struggled to right himself.

  Gabriel strained against the relentless pull. He had beaten the evil gem before, but would he be strong enough to get away this time? Stretching and clawing, he attached his energy to the heads of the nails holding down the wooden strips. Like scaling a sheer cliff, he grabbed one nail after the other and slowly edged toward the stairs.

  Finally, the drag from the candlestone eased. He crawled faster and reached the carpeted stairway just as Palin stepped up to the top landing. Gabriel plodded upward, trying to float, but his energy field seemed mired in sticky mud. At least his sparks had faded. He would likely be invisible to the slayers now.

  Palin disappeared into the master bedroom. Gabriel lurched forward. The slayer wouldn’t find anyone there, but Bonnie’s bedroom was next in line.

  As Gabriel reached the final step, Palin poked his head out of the master bedroom and gazed down the hallway in the opposite direction. Gabriel slid into Bonnie’s bedroom and settled next to the outlet that fed the lamp, close enough to the door to grab Palin before he could reach Bonnie.

  Palin stepped into the room. With every light off, he seemed more phantom than human. Gabriel plugged his fingers in again, but this time no painful buzz rocketed through his body. He yanked his hand back. That last jolt must have knocked out the electricity!

  The slayer reached over to the lamp and turned its switch. Nothing happened. He leaned back into the hall. “Sir Devin! Are you up?”

  “Yes,” came the reply. “Did you find anyone?”

  Gabriel cringed. Would their conversation awaken Bonnie? Would she groan or cry out?

  “Not yet,” Palin said. “The electricity’s off. Can you see well enough to find the circuit breakers?”

  “Maybe. Hold on.”

  Gabriel forced his energy field to stand up, but he fell backwards, right through the lamp and into the wall, flattening himself against Bonnie’s poster of a little girl praying. He draped his fingers across the girl’s twin ponytails. Looking toward Bonnie in the darkness, he imagined her head lying on the pillow, her own ponytails draped across her neck.

  Gazing at the angel who watched over the girl, Gabriel lifted his hand and cried out in the buzzing, electrified tongue that only gods and gifted children could hear. “I am no guardian angel, and I never have been. Please don’t let this monster kill my precious lamb. Don’t let my failure cause her death.”

  Suddenly, Gabriel’s energy field began to glow. Although the lamp’s bulb stayed dark, the entire poster lit up as if painted by a phosphorescent brush. Palin glanced back. “Thank you, my liege. I can see now.”

  “No!” Gabriel screamed. “Now he’ll kill her for sure!”

  Palin spied Bonnie as she slept peacefully in her bed, her wings easily visible in the soft light of the poster’s luminescence. Leaning toward her, Palin flexed his muscles and drew back his sword.

  Chapter 10

  Through the Storm

  Pressing his cheek against the poster, Gabriel cried out, “Dear God, I beg you. Protect her! I am helpless!”

  Palin swung his sword, but just before the blade reached the bed, he flexed his arms and drew it back. Taking a step closer, he gazed at Bonnie for several seconds. Gabriel lumbered to the bedside and stood next to the evil slayer, so weak he could barely keep his energy from crumbling to the floor. What could he do but stare alongside the slayer?

  The poster’s glow highlighted Bonnie’s radiant face peaceful, serene, angelic. The tender skin on her bare arms displayed an innocent vulnerability, as though she were a gentle lamb who knew nothing of the wolf poised at her throat. With her eyes still shut and her mouth stretching into a quiet yawn, Bonnie pulled her knees closer to her chest and nuzzled her pillow.

  Palin peered at the door for a moment, then at Bonnie. Lowering his sword, he tiptoed back to the hall and leaned out. Finally, he left the room, and the sound of creaking steps faded in the distance.

  As Gabriel backed away from the bed, the poster’s glow disappeared. With a surge of strength, he floated down the stairwell and found Devin and Palin standing close to the front door, both putting on their cloaks.

  “Can you see well enough to drive?” Palin asked.

  “My vision’s coming back slowly, but I couldn’t even find the breaker box.”

  “You couldn’t?” Palin glanced back at the stairs, but only for a second.

  “No mongrels in the house?” Devin asked.

  Palin shook his head. “And no sign of Gabriel. I guess he disappeared again.”

  “In future slayings, we’ll be sure to stay clear of electrical outlets, but I’d still like to kill that mongrel. I’ll ask Morgan if she has any ideas.”

  “At least we finally got Hartanna,” Palin said, pointing his sword at Irene.

  Devin fumbled for the doorknob and patted a pocket in his cloak. “And I have her blood. Just the medicine for a wound inflicted by the witch’s claws.”

  He opened the door, and as they passed into the snowy breeze, Palin laughed. “Hair of the dog that bit you, huh?” The door slammed heavily behind them.

  Gabriel knelt at Irene’s side. A pool of blood surrounded her body and streamed along the lines between the hardwood strips. He laid his head on her side and wept.

  A sleepy voice sounded from the top of the stairs. “Daddy? Is that you?”

  Gabriel spun around. “Oh, dear God!” he moaned. “Don’t let her see this carnage!”

  As Bonnie padded down the stairs, she draped a bathrobe over her wings and shoulders. When she reached the bottom, she stopped and squinted. The streetlights cast a dim glow over Irene’s curled body.

  “Mama?” Bonnie called. “Are you okay?”

  Gabriel raised his hands to stop Bonnie but to no avail. She scooted across the floor and ran around to Irene’s head.

  “Mama!” Bonnie screamed, dropping to her knees. “What happened?”

  Irene’s pallid face gave no reply.

  Bonnie lifted her mother’s hand from the floor. Blood dripped from the ends of her fingers. She grabbed the limp arm and screamed again. “Mama! Can you hear me?”

  Irene’s hand suddenly latched around Bonnie’s wrist. Her mouth opened, but no audible words came forth.

  “What, Mama?” Bonnie leaned close. “Say it again!”

  “Your father betrayed us,” Irene whispered. “Go to the agency. . . . Just like our plan. . . . Don’t let . . . let them find you.”

  Bonnie clutched her mother’s hand, her arms and voice quaking. “I can’t leave you like this! You’ll die!”

  “You must find . . . the other dragon. . . . Don’t come back here . . . unless I call you.”

  A loud clump sounded from the garage at the side of the house, then heavy footsteps. Irene’s eyes widened, and a sudden surge of energy strengthened her voice. “Now run, dear child! You know where to go. Don’t look back! Just run!” With a final, gurgling gasp, Irene stopped breathing, and her eyes slowly closed.

  Bonnie shot to her feet. Wiping blood on her nightgown, she swiveled her head from side to side. She clenched both fists and tiptoed toward the back of the house. Still barefoot, she opened the door quietly and disappeared outside.

  As the door swung closed, Gabriel waited at Irene’s side. Bonnie wouldn’t go far in such a storm. If the slayer was coming back, it would be better to stay and find a way to keep him from following her.

  Dr. Conner’s voice pierced the dreary scene. “Irene? Are you sitting in the dark again?” The footsteps drew closer. “I should’ve known Dr. George wouldn’t show up. The weather was so bad ” He flipped the light switch, but no lights came on. “I forgot. The electricity’s out. I had to open the garage door myself.”

  Squinting into the dim room, he called, “Irene?” He dashed to her side and fell to his knees, sliding in her blood. “Irene!” he cried out. “Talk to me!” He tore off his muffler and pressed it ag
ainst her wound, then laid his ear against her chest. “C’mon! Give me something!” After a few seconds, he sighed. “Okay, you’re still with us.” Keeping a hand on Irene’s stomach, he shouted toward the stairs, “Bonnie! Come down here!”

  Gabriel rushed to the rear of the house and slipped through the crack between the door and the jamb. When he emerged on the back porch, swirling snow encircled his energy field like a white cyclone. Bare footprints marred the walkway’s powdery blanket, blazing a path to the access alley beyond an open gate. He zoomed out to the street, but tire tracks swallowed the trail. In the midst of blizzard-like winds, he scanned the snowscape, desperately hoping to spot a hunched-over girl cowering in a bush.

  As a gust of wind whistled a mournful tune, he realized the awful truth. Bonnie was nowhere in the area. Setting his sights on her most likely path, he glided toward the main road, scanning the mounting blanket of snow. Of course, she would try to get to the foster care agency. What choice did she have?

  Finally, in the distance, he spotted a trail of footprints and floated toward them. The streetlights suddenly blacked out, and the neighborhood fell into darkness. Gabriel roared. Now how would he follow her trail?

  Flashing his energy field with every ampere of current he could muster, he crawled close to the ground and followed the outlines of narrow, bare feet as though he were a sniffing hound. The going was slow, but somehow he would find the lost and frightened little lamb.

  Bonnie pushed uphill against the hammering gusts, ducking her head to keep the wind-driven snow from stinging her eyes. Still trudging barefoot, she could no longer feel her toes. Her robe had blown away with the first chilling blast, exposing her wings to anyone who might peek out of one of the warm, cozy homes lining the street. Bitter cold sent a pulsing throb into her aching calves, but she kept wading through the drifts one bare foot in front of the other, again and again. The storm was too fierce for flying, and she had to keep moving, had to fight the urge to surrender to hopelessness and grief. Mama was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it except to obey her last wish, to survive and somehow find a former dragon and his son.